I’m going to write about something stupid I did once.
Once upon a time, I was on my way to work, running late (per my usual) and freaking out about it. I was driving in heavy lunchtime traffic in the right-hand lane when I started to see those signs that said the lane was ending. So I immediately put on my turn signal and waited for someone in the left lane to let me in. Coasting along slowly at the head of the right lane of traffic, I waited and waited, and no one in the solid line of traffic in the left lane would even budge. I got to the cones. I had nowhere else to go.
So I pulled a trick from my Chicago driving days and forced myself into the left lane, between an SUV and a smaller car. Thinking “take that, bastards,” I waved the thank-you wave, because that’s what you do in Chicago when you cut someone off and force your way into their lane. I don’t know. I just did it.
This lane is going v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y and I’m irritated about that, and I begin to wonder why all the cars in this lane have their headlights on.
And then I blame the car at the head of the line for making us go so slowly. Seriously, that dude is going like 20 mph and braking a lot. Maybe he’s old. And what’s with the purple light on top of his car? And what’s with the…
It’s a hearse.
That’s right. I forced myself into a funeral procession.
I make a jackass out of myself quite a lot, but that was one of the most jackassy times in my life. And I honestly had had no idea because I was so intent on getting in the left lane.
And apparently the funeral procession I’d busted into was for this sweet old lady who was struck and killed by a police officer doing a high-speed chase. Everyone loved her and it was a horrible, horrible tragedy when she died.
And then some crazy terrible driver ruined the funeral with her impatience.
Seriously, that day may have damaged my karma irreparably.